“What did you say?” Steven expostulated. Ralf started to argue, and Jack began to splutter. But it was Emma who ended up with the floor.
“You’ve gone absolutely crazy, miss, if you think anyone of us could even think of sleeping at a time like this!” She glared at Carrie as she snapped. “Why, that’s the very reason we woke you up, ’cause we didn’t think you should sleep through the night without knowin’! It ain’t dec—”
“You aren’t doing anybody any good,” Carrie interrupted her. There was silence. “You aren’t doing even yourself any good! Look at all of you! Do you think Dad would be happy to see you all vegetating over a perpetual cup of coffee? Do you know what he’d say?” She leaned back in her chair, the note of authority surprising herself as much as it did the others.
“Why, he’d say there are fences to mend, Steven! And there are chores to do, Jack! And a house to keep clean, and hungry men to feed, Emma! What about you, Ralf? Shouldn’t you think about the horses? For God’s sake, don’t just sit! Keep active and be useful, if you can’t sleep, because Mom and Dad are going to need all of us, and our strength, and our working hands more now than ever before! And it would help,” her voice softened, “if you had something in your hands to keep you busy. I love Dad just as much as any of you, but he’s just a man, with a great many weaknesses. He’s not the ranch—although he’s a good, part of it—you’re the ranch, every one of you. And if you stop, then what’s going to happen to the thing Dad loves most in the world?”
There was still silence, while everyone stared at Carrie, who had to swallow the lump that rose in her throat and blink rapidly to keep tears from falling onto her cheeks. She buried her head in her cup, warming her hand on its sides and trying to read something in its murky depths. Someone stirred and stood.
“Seems like a good chance to catch up on all those chores I’ve been puttin’ off,” Jack said gruffly, rubbing his eyes in a furtive gesture. “I’ll—be off, then. Someone call me if you hear anything.” He passed Carrie and hesitated for a moment. She tilted her head to look back at him and was profoundly surprised when he awkwardly kissed her on the cheek. He looked as if he’d like to say something more, but shook his head and went quickly out.
Emma bustled to life. “I think,” she put in hastily, “I’ll give all of the bedrooms a good turn out!” And she too hustled out of the kitchen after patting Carrie on the shoulder.
The breath of active life that she had managed to instill in everyone was like a new hope, and it was reflected in everyone’s eyes. Ralf and Steven spoke quietly together about what needed attending to first that day. She sat back and finished her coffee as she listened, and then poured herself another one. It was going to be a long time, she guessed, before she would get any sleep.
“—But what are you going to do, Carrie?” Steven’s voice penetrated her thoughts. “Are you going to keep busy like the rest of us?”
She smiled a crooked smile. “I’m going to do the worst thing I can possibly think of,” she said ruefully, “and yet be where I’m probably needed the most right now. I’m going to go to the hospital, keep Mom company, and wait.”
The long, grey hours passed very slowly for the mother and daughter waiting in the small white room. Carrie kept a constant watch over Janet, listening to her rambling talks about Cliff, getting her coffee when she wanted it, and sometimes simply holding her hand when the words seemed to dry up and silence fell over both of them.
Carrie had never realised before how desolate the dark hours were before the dawn. The time trickled by so very quietly; it was as if the stillness of death was upon them. Sometimes, when she was left alone while Janet went to check for news of Cliff, Carrie fancied she heard quiet footsteps echo through the halls, and yet when she would turn her head to look down the wide corridor, the expanse would be empty. She knew that she was imagining it from sheer tiredness.
She also knew that, of all the Metcalfes, she was able to handle the crisis the best. Her world had been so very different since she had left home.
She had realised greater horizons and had built a life of her own, apart from her family. She loved every one of them deeply, but she had, after all, another life to live. Everyone at the Metcalfe ranch lived a very dependent life. It was now, when the family faced their first real crisis, that Carrie, the one who had always seemed so fragile and vulnerable, was the real core of strength.
The hours melted into late morning, before they received any real news of Cliff’s condition. Gabe had showed up around nine o’clock, and had proved to be a tower of strength and reliance. He had sat with Janet while Carrie went to the hospital cafeteria for breakfast, and when she had returned, he was the one to persuade her mother to make a brief trip home for a shower and a change of clothes.
Janet had accepted his offer to drive her home, and before they had left, Gabe bent down to whisper in Carrie’s ear, “If you’d called me, I would have come.”
She had stared into his eyes and seen, behind a look of hurt, a steady glow she had seen before. “I know,” she whispered back. And it was true; she had known, somewhere deep down, all along. “But I knew I’d need you more when I was beat. Everybody has been leaning on me through the night. Now I need to lean on you.” Her voice had broken as she told him of her deep emotional need, and as she confessed that even her resources of strength were running dry.
Gabe had touched her once, on the cheek, with a very gentle hand. “We’ll be back soon. I promise.” And then they had left.
The short time that Carrie had been by herself was the hardest. There had been no one else to be strong for, and it was then that she had faced her own deep fears. She had never felt so alone in her life.
But Gabe and Janet had been back very soon, and Carrie never told anyone how hard the wait had been by herself, dreading the possibility of the doctor’s slow, reluctant walk down that silent corridor to impart news to a grieving family. She thanked God that she didn’t have to go through that experience as she saw the two returning.
Janet looked better. She had needed a break away from the helpless waiting. Now it was Carrie who felt the need for strength, and when Gabe sat down beside her, she turned to his bulky solid chest and buried her head there with a sigh. Strong arms had instantly enfolded her, a light touch was briefly in her hair as he kissed her head, and she could close her eyes in peace. She fell asleep there.
“…and you can see him for a little while, Mrs. Metcalfe, but please don’t tire him. He’s still very weak,” a stern voice flowed over Carrie’s head. She jerked up, narrowly missing Gabe’s chin.
As Janet hurried down the corridor, behind the doctor, with tears of joy in her eyes, Carrie turned anxiously to Gabe. “What’s happened? Is he dying?” There was a wealth of anguish in her tone. They hadn’t even wakened her.
“No—now hush, sweetheart. Your father is going to live,” Gabe murmured, pulling her back into his arms. She went to him like melted wax. “He had a bad night, but he’s going to pull through now. It was a very nasty attack.”
A long shudder that passed through Carrie’s body like wildfire was the only reaction she showed, and his arms tightened until she thought her ribs would break. When she could lift her head, she smiled into his eyes mistily. An answering smile lay deep in his dark eyes, just for her. He kissed her nose. “You’re a very strong lady.”
“And you are a very strong man,” she whispered, kissing him back. “Mmmm—I could get to like this!”
“Oh? We’ll have to practice some time, real soon.” He helped her to her feet. “Do you want to go see how your father’s doing?”
Later, Gabe and Carrie had travelled home to tell everyone the good news. Steven and Ralf decided to go to the hospital to be with Janet, and Jack had gruffly stomped out of the house, with tears in his eyes, to tell the ranch hands. Emma sniffed happily for a few minutes and declared she would take a nap. Soon Carrie and Gabe were alone in the large kitchen where they demolished huge sandwiches for lunch
, washed down with lemonade.
“Those were the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair and feeling suddenly very tired indeed.
Gabe smiled a little at that, his eyes moving over her exhausted features like a caress. “I love you, Carrie.”
She closed her eyes. The pleasure of those three words was near to pain, the feeling was so intense. “I love you, Gabe,” she whispered. Then she looked at him anxiously. “Do you understand why I didn’t call you at three-thirty in the morning? It wasn’t because I didn’t want you there—I wanted you very much. It was just…”
“—That you knew you’d be needing me later on even more,” he finished for her gently. “I do understand, Carrie. Your whole family had been up all night, and everyone was exhausted.” He slid his chair over to hers and put his arm around her tenderly.
“You were my reservoir of strength,” she told him with a shaking voice. A sneaky tear slid down her cheek before she could catch it, and she scrubbed at her face with one trembling hand. “Funny,” she laughed unsteadily, “it’s after the suspense is over when I finally go to pieces.”
“You’re not going to pieces. Come here—no, damn it, on my lap. There, now just relax, love, and let me be strong for a while,” he murmured in her ear. Carrie snuggled closer, tucking one hand under his collar to lay it against his neck. He put his briefly over it and squeezed.
“I’m half-asleep, you know,” she mumbled into his shirt. “I hope I’m not dreaming this.”
“I think I’m having the same dream,” he told her, his chest shaking silently. “When are you going to marry me?”
“When Dad is well enough to attend the ceremony. Is that all right?” She started to draw little circles lightly against the side of his neck with her forefinger. This was what she had been missing all along. This was what her being had craved, this complete letting down of all defenses, this total trust.
“Minx!” he growled, grabbing her hand. “You’d better stop if you don’t want a wedding in the middle of a busy hospital. I won’t be able to wait very long, if you tease me like that!”
Of course, she thought fuzzily, the passionate side of the relationship wasn’t to be sneezed at. She was interrupted by a long, searching, warm kiss, and her hands went behind his neck. It could very well be the basis of everything. She chuckled. “Will you come to Chicago with me until my exhibition?”
“Sure, then we’ll go everywhere, and you can take pictures, and I’ll take pictures of you taking pictures, and we’ll be as happy as sparrows.” Gabe tickled her ear with each word.
“Larks,” she corrected.
“Ostriches, even.”
“I like that, Gabe, especially the ’happy as birds’ bit, but I think I’ll want a little more security and practicality than the two of us traipsing about the world and shooting up film.”
He drawled, “Would you like to get lost on a desert island together?” His mouth was beginning to descend.
Carrie drew back. “I can arrange that,” she said, amused. His eyebrows lifted as he was momentarily diverted, and she explained, “I know a man who owns an honest-to-goodness desert island, I promise!”
His eyes were on her mouth, and he became interested in something else. “No kidding?” he murmured, putting his mouth on hers.
She mouthed against his lips, “Trust me.”
About the Author
Thea Harrison started writing when she was nineteen. In the 1980s and 1990s, she wrote for Harlequin Mills & Boon under the name Amanda Carpenter. The Amanda Carpenter romances have been published in over ten languages, and sold over a million and a half copies worldwide, and are now being reprinted digitally by Samhain Publishing for their Retro Romance line.
For more information, please visit her at: www.theaharrison.com. You can also find her on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/TheaHarrison and on Twitter at: @TheaHarrison.
Look for these titles by Amanda Carpenter
Now Available:
A Deeper Dimension
The Wall
A Damaged Trust
Writing as Thea Harrison
Novellas of the Elder Races
True Colors
Natural Evil
Devil’s Gate
Hunter’s Season
Coming Soon:
The Great Escape
Flashback
Rage
Waking Up
Rose-Coloured Love
Reckless
The Gift of Happiness
Caprice
Passage of the Night
Cry Wolf
A Solitary Heart
The Winter King
Writing as Thea Harrison
Novellas of the Elder Races
The Wicked
Two people hiding from the world discover they can’t hide their feelings for each other.
The Wall
© 2013 Amanda Carpenter
On the verge of collapse, famous singer Sara Bertelli escapes from the Hollywood scene by taking refuge at an isolated cabin on Lake Michigan. When she meets a mysterious man while walking on the shore, she worries that he’ll recognize her, but Greg Pierson has secrets of his own.
Drawn closer and closer together, the two lost souls find comfort in each other, and soon share their deepest secrets. But when Greg asks Sara to give up the limelight and live with him in seclusion, she begins to realize just how important performing her music is to her. Will her fame be an insurmountable wall to their relationship?
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Wall:
The beach was very easy to find. The path was rather straight to the point, and after about five minutes Sara caught a whiff of something cool and fresh on the carrying breeze, and her head raised like that of a scenting hound’s, her fine nostrils widening and her eyes searching. Then as she rounded a bend in the path, she saw a patch of blue. Soon the hard-packed earth underneath her feet became loose and shifty and the treeline broke open to harsh grasses rising from rippling dunes. She rounded yet another bend in the path and found herself out on an open beach with a deep blue expanse that travelled as far as the eye could see.
The sound of the waves hitting the shore, the overhead cry of birds, and the incredible fresh quality to the breeze that hit her so gently made her close her eyes for a moment and sigh deeply in appreciation and contentment. She walked out of the protection of the trees and towards the water. Away from the obstruction of the treeline, she took stock of the shoreline from both the northern direction and the southern, resting her knapsack and camera bag at her feet as she surveyed the area with a hand shading her eyes from the noon sun. To the south, which was left of her, off in the misty blue distance she saw the Cook’s nuclear power plant at the edge of the water, and farther from that several small bright patches of colour that proclaimed late season swimmers taking advantage of the unusually warm weather. To the right she saw some distance to a rather high jutting shoreline that dropped some thirty feet into the water and effectively cut the other side off from her sight. It was sufficiently intriguing for her to set off in that direction, her small knapsack and camera bag bumping her knee as she trod along.
Photography had been an interest of hers for years, and now she fully intended to take the time to indulge her hobby. She wanted to get some pictures of the shoreline, and to possibly come back that evening to shoot the sunset on the waters of Lake Michigan. Sara climbed the rise in the shoreline and stood at the top of the small cliff. She stared down at the other side, disappointed. Just at the bottom of the rise, “No Trespassing” signs were posted. After staring at the sign for some minutes and thinking of the people sure to be populating the beach in the other direction, she made up her mind. Chances were that the person who owned the property wouldn’t catch her just this once on the land, and the barren sight of the empty expanse that stretched ahead was just too much to resist. She climbed down the other side of the cliff and continued the way she had originally headed. After a ti
me, reveling in the seclusion of the sandy beach—and knowing full well that a large measure of her enjoyment was derived from the forbidden nature of her jaunt—Sara had an attractive idea. She slid her burden down to the ground and after rolling up her jeans, dropped to her knees in the sand and started to scoop up handfuls in a decisive way. Soon she was engrossed in the makings of a fine sand castle, so reminiscent of the ones from her childhood. She stopped once to look around for a few pieces of wood and a couple of sticks to dig with, and she soon had a deep hole with high, even sides all around. As she worked, the golden sun and fresh air, the interminable sound of lapping waves and incessant cry of wild birds, the pervading quiet under all of the surface sounds, all made her gradually relax. The tension in her neck and shoulder muscles melted away. Her lips began to smile slightly as the wind whipped her dark hair around her neck and into her eyes. She earnestly started on taking out regular block chunks from the top of the wall to make a credible rampart, when a shadow fell across her handiwork.
To the man watching, Sara seemed to be no bigger than a child crouching at play. Her slender legs shone white in the afternoon sunlight, and delicate blue veins wove a tapestry in her small feet. Her long thin fingers moved rapidly and gracefully, the blue veins apparent also on the back of her hands. The dark hair was tangled on her neck.
She stared at the square shadow in front of her with some amusement before addressing it. “You’re probably the owner, aren’t you, or someone vastly important like the sole caretaker in complete charge and authority?” she asked calmly. “Now you’ve spoiled the fun. You were supposed to find my mysterious footprints and a splendid sand castle erected to guard the empty expanse of land from the mischievous and malicious water nymphs who steal babies and pick all the wild flowers…” Just at that moment, a section of her castle wall began to cave in towards the hole, and she scrabbled over frantically. “Yipe! Oh—shoot, it took me forever to get it right, and I haven’t a picture of it yet…oh, thanks!” This last was said as, after an apparent hesitation, the large shadow dropped beside her and two large and deeply tanned hands came alongside hers to firmly press the crumbling sand into place.
Damaged Trust Page 17
